A Brave New World
by Chasing-Blibbering-Humdingers
Summary: Post ME3. "And they all lived happily ever after." Not. Sure there was happiness in years to come, but right after victory there was a big mess to be cleaned up, lives to be mourned and other lives to be rebuilt.Injuries received lead to trying times, but they will eventually carry on as they always have. When Shepard wakes up in the rubble and onward. Shenko. Angst.


**A/N: A work in progress. **

**Post-Destroy ending. Will be slightly AU later due to changing parts of the endings. Definite Shenko. Lots of angst in later chapters.**

**Shepard used is Rachel Shepard. Colonist/War Hero/ Vanguard**

**As always, all characters belong to Bioware. Hope you enjoy it!**

Sometimes the things needed the most hurt the most, too.

Suddenly, she breathed in deeply, as she lay there, buried in rubble, and felt her lungs burn in protest, pronouncing the pain throughout her body. "The breath of life" it would later be called, but at the time it felt like death. Oxygen was necessary, yet it seared her insides as well. Every part of her body ached with the weight of over three years of continuous fighting, which had even once been interrupted with death. Even that hadn't stopped her. But, with the Reapers finally destroyed, she felt it would have been so easy to simply let go, and succumb to the pain.

But Commander Shepard never took the easy way out.

Her heart pounded determinedly in her chest beneath the charred and unrecognizable armor. Vision blurred and reality fading away, she focused on keeping her breathing steady, and tried to self-assess her wounds. Warm blood streamed from her head and side as her head throbbed dully. Shepard tried moving her fingers and toes, making sure she could still feel each of her appendages, and filled out a mental checklist as she did.

Left hand.

_Check._

Right hand.

There was a deep cut across her palm, irritated by the dirt and debris. But at least she could feel it at all.

_Check._

Right leg.

Her right leg stirred feebly beneath some small chunks of rubble.

_Check._

Left leg.

Left leg.

Left leeegg?

_Crap._

Groaning with exertion, she rolled her head around to look at her left leg.

Or what was left of it.

_That piece of meat is not my leg,_ she thought, gasping in shock. Rachel Shepard was starting to breathe rapidly, vision blurring from a mix of panic, blood loss, and fatigue. Closing her eyes, she desperately tried to gain control of her breathing and slow it down. Finally opening her eyes again, she mustered up what little strength she had left, and lifted her head. Immediately the world began to sway in a dizzy haze. Once back in focus, Shepard saw the large piece of shrapnel digging into her flesh just below the knee, and an enormous slab of stone and concrete crushing and obscuring much of the lower half of her leg. Beneath the rubble her leg was contorted bizarrely, and her foot stuck out at an odd angle. Blood stained much of the surrounding debris, and a pungent odor met her nose. Chunks of flesh were missing from the visible part of her leg, in one spot worn down to the bone. Segments of the bone seemed to be integrated with different metal alloys, reminding her that death had gotten her once before, and it might get her now. She had even lost all feeling in the leg entirely. Probably for the best.

It appeared that she was drowning in a sea of rubble. Had this really once been London? And where were her friends, her allies, her squad? Were they okay, or lost and dying in the ruins of London as well? The Reapers were finally destroyed and she hoped the people who made the galaxy worth saving were still alive. Was it foolish to hope she and her squad had all gotten out of this alive? Was it foolish to wish she would live now? She didn't know, but as consciousness began to slip away from her once again, she thought of something she knew was foolish: a hope for a future. A future where the skies would never again darken from impending Reapers, where Kaidan could show her the view of English Bay, where she could even become an Alenko someday…

Death was whispering to her, crooning its blood-stained lullaby. Rachel ignored it, determined to experience the world she had saved. Death would have to keep waiting.

"H…Help", she coughed, her voice a piteous rasp.

Silence met her plea. She lifted her uninjured hand to her side, applying pressure to the wound there. Then, everything faded away into black nothingness, her eyelids drooping as the darkness pulled her under.

* * *

Rocks were shifting around her. Unrecognizable voices murmured, sounding like they were underwater. Rachel was dimly aware of a light being shined in her face.

_They did always saw there would be a light,_ she thought. Then, one of the voices rang out right by her head, and she made out some of the words.

"…got…wounded here…Still breathing…Wait, it's Shepard! Hang on, Commander, can you hear me?" The voice was ringing in her ears, assertive with a hint of gentleness and awe. Knowing there was hope, she nodded slowly, before all of her strength ebbed away.

The voice yelled with renewed vigor. It yelled for others, medi-gel, a stretcher, _anything._ Footsteps echoed, and more yells resounded. Someone was applying medi-gel to her side, her face and every visible wound. Some of the pain was leaving now, and a familiar voice was added to the din.

"Holy shit!"James said loudly. "We gotta get that off her leg. I'm gonna need some help here!" Now he spoke directly to Shepard. "Damn, Lola. Don't know how you're still alive, but make sure you keep it that way."

Relief flooded through her. James was still alive, and with her now. He hadn't rejoined Captain Toni or the rest of his old squad. He knew now he had so much to live for. But where was everyone else? Kaidan had said he'd fight like hell for her, but was it enough? She needed him, so he had better be alive. Jogging her memory, she remembered being hit by Harbinger's beam…Garrus and Kaidan had been with her, had they taken a hit, too?

Tali was undoubtedly fighting infection right now. Shepard refused to let herself think any worse. And what about Liara, EDI, or Javik? Her worry consumed her so much she didn't hear the sound of the boulder being moved off of her mangled leg.

She did then feel her limp body being lifted onto a stretcher of some sort, voices still jabbering back and forth. Pieces of her armor were being stripped away, so other injuries could be treated and her vitals monitored. Rachel allowed herself to relax slightly, as she knew she was in good hands. She had been found. London wasn't going to be her final resting place.

She opened her eyes. Everything slid in and out of focus. Civilians and soldiers-turned doctors carried the stretcher and tended to her wounds. James was still there, helping.

"It's gonna be alright, Lola," he was saying. "Hold on. You just kicked the Reapers asses, don't leave us now. Focusing on him, she saw some cuts and bruises across his face, his trophies from the battle.

"James," she whispered. "Rest of squad…okay?" She coughed, spitting out blood.

"We've learned from the best about survival, Commander," he said. "I think we're all alive. Haven't exactly had time for a head count." Shepard hoped he was right. Then, James said something to the medics carrying her, and added "Lola, I'm going to look for other survivors. Take care of yourself. Hey, and you might see some of the others back at the 'hospital'. I saw T'Soni and Sparks there earlier."

He has put a sarcastic emphasis on the word 'hospital', and she didn't need to ask. If there was still an actual, functional hospital in London, it would be a miracle. She could hear James's footsteps growing fainter, coupled with those of others searching for bodies and survivors. The medics still spoke urgently to each other. Every now and then they would ask a 'yes' or 'no' question, to which she would give nearly imperceptible nods or shakes of the head in reply. Rachel didn't know how long she laid there, feeling like living death, bobbing and rocking slightly as they carried her along. Not wanting to lose consciousness entirely, she tried to focus on their voices, tethering her to reality. Bleary images of mountains of rubble and dilapidated buildings passed by her.

Hearing one of the medics mention her leg, she whispered "leg?" questioningly to the person carrying the stretcher by her right shoulder.

Sighing, they said "Right now, we don't know about your leg, Commander. Most of us are untrained civilians and soldiers, not doctors. Honestly, we don't know how to handle this."

"You just saved the whole galaxy, though," another said reverently. "We'll be able to get a professional here for you, of all people."

"Please, Commander. Save your strength." The first voice was saying. "You've done enough," they laughed slightly, but there was no humor in it. "More than enough. Everyone is indebted to you."

There was a pause, and then another voice added "I just…can't believe it's really over."

A silence fell over them, and Shepard took once again to concentrating on their voices, as pain threatened once again to take over.

A few minutes later, she was jerked from her stupor as the medics began yelling. One of the ones who she had spoken to earlier said 'The camp and hospital are just around this corner, Commander." The others were yelling out in elation "We've got Shepard!" as they requested further assistance.

As they entered the camp, Shepard immediately recognized the area. It was the same block she had been in hours before (_was it really just hours ago? _She thought. _So much has happened since then) _when saying goodbye. _Now I can say hello,_ she thought.

The block itself had undergone a transformation. Refugees scrambled around, some in a confused daze. Some rejoiced that the nightmare was finally over, while others wept in anguish, traumatized and grieving for lost loved ones. Some sat alone, staring off at things unseen. Those with better grips on reality were helping in any way they could, like the substitute doctors helping Rachel herself. Cots were set up in some of the run down buildings, or simply scattered on the street, and wounded were lying on them. Medics of every species ran between different patients, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the dying. Engineers and technicians were repairing different devices. Rachel managed a small smile as she saw humans and Quarians working together on a communications relay. At the far end of the block were small tents made of canvas and whatever other materials were available. Large red crosses painted on the fronts of them told her they were other places for the wounded, most likely in critical condition.

The medics were now lifting her onto a gurney, and pushing her towards those very tents. Weary faces all around were transfixed by her. Some recognized her, and began applauding their savior as she passed. Others' faces revealed their contempt. They did not recognize her, and saw her as another body; one more dying, one more consuming their medi-gel and food. They looked so broken inside, and Rachel felt responsible. If only she could have come with help sooner, then how many people would not be so broken?

Sitting atop a pile of rubble were a very battered Garrus and Tali. Both only had eyes for each other (so to speak, in Tali's case).

"You should really get your suit ruptures checked out," she overheard Garrus say.

"Garrus, please. If you have me take anymore anti-biotics, I'll _drown_ in them. And you won't let anyone look at that cut on your face! So I'm staying with you."

"Well if you're going to be stubborn, we can work on designing the layout for your house on your homeworld, Ms. Vas Rannoch."

"_Our_ house, Mr. Vakarian," Tali said sternly.

"Oh really?" Garrus said. "I thought this was-what did you call it?- 'just a fling.'"

Rachel wanted to call out to them with her remaining strength, but suppressed the urge. They deserved this time of happiness together, instead of worrying about a dying friend.

Their voices began fading away as she was wheeled closer to the tents. More medics were surrounding her than before, talking about her condition. But Shepard's thoughts were still lingering on her two friends. Garrus and Tali. Words could not express the affection she felt for the pair of them, or the relief that they were both still alive. James had mentioned Liara, too, so she must have pulled through as well. EDI was probably wherever Joker was (_if either of them are still alive_, a part of her thought). Javik was probably somewhere, reveling in the glory that his race was avenged. He probably wanted to be alone for a while. But where was-

Kaidan. Her bleary eyes met his familiar brown ones. There was a second where both stared in disbelief at the other. He was sitting on one of the cots outside a building. His armor was battle-worn, but still mostly in tact, except for his left arm, where it was blackened and destroyed. Only his arm must have been hit by Harbinger's beam. There was a thick bandage on his upper arm, and a couple medics were tending to deep, diagonal cuts across his face. Adrenaline flooded through her, all pain and fatigue forgotten. She had to get to him, caress his face, and make sure he was real and that they were really both alive.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was fighting. Shepard was struggling against the medics who began desperately trying to hold her down. The medics called for others to help restrain her as she thrashed in heir grip. Some fifteen to twenty feet away, Kaidan was struggling against those trying to restrain him as well. Suddenly, he flared a violent shade of blue, triggering his biotics. Rachel tried to imitate him, her biotics flickering feebly before dying. The medics near Kaidan were thrown into Stasis by him, and he ran closer to her. Meanwhile, the medics restraining her were calling for a sedative, and yelling at her to calm down.

"Please," she said as forcefully as she could in her rasp of a voice. "Let him…Let him be with me."

One of the medics she had spoken to earlier's face swam in and out of her focus. He sighed, and then began talking to the others pinning her down, and keeping Kaidan away. "They'll only stop if we let them be with each other. Shepard's vitals still aren't stable, so if we don't want her heart to give out, we have to stop fighting her."

_Smart man,_ Rachel thought. _Maybe I won't have to kick all of their asses later._

There was a pause as the others listened to the first medic, before finally consenting. They parted like the red sea, and Kaidan, who seemed ready to biotically throw them all, came running to her side.

Weakly, she reached out her hand to him as he approached, tears now mingling with the blood, dirt and sweat on her face. Yet she smiled up at him as he took her hand in both of his.

"Oh God, Rachel. I thought…" his voice broke, and he smiled sadly at her in return, tears brimming in his own eyes. "I thought you were…"

"Told you…" Rachel coughed. "Told you I'd be waiting for you."

The stretcher was being pushed into one of the tents now, Kaidan holding her hand the whole way. Both were silent; and why shouldn't they be? It was one of those times where words seemed insignificant, where any words said would simply fail to express the emotions that spurred them. It was the things unsaid that mattered; the reminders of undying love, the admittances of relief that the other was alive and that _they had done it. _They each understood that which they other did not say. Victory was finally theirs after three years, and they were together. Nothing else mattered.

Kaidan brushed some of her matted and filthy hair behind her ear. Then he spoke, and it was a nearly inaudible whisper meant just for her. "Marry me." For a moment, he looked just as surprised as she felt, his face clearly saying _did I just say that out loud? _ After a moment, he regained his composure, chocolate brown eyes pleading.

"That an order, Major?" she coughed. "Yes, I will," she added, squeezing his hand.

The medics were inserting IVs and injecting sedatives and pain killers. Kaidan's face swam before her as everything faded to black once again.


End file.
